


we are the children of great empires

by haipollai



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Adjusting to a different world, Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions of Past Torture, PTSD, Rough Sex, Steve and Bucky never met, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Barnes stares at himself in the mirror. His mouth forms the shape of his name. Repeats it over and over, tries to remember what it was like when it was his. Before being Yakov. (He was born in Indiana. He was born to parents in Leningrad. His family is all dead either way.) They all tell him he's safe here. The Soviet Union can no longer touch him, all safeguards and kill switches have been removed. He's American just like he used to be, they say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are the children of great empires

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by a line from Thirty Seconds to Mars "Conquistador"

James Barnes stares at himself in the mirror. His mouth forms the shape of his name. Repeats it over and over, tries to remember what it was like when it was his. Before being Yakov. (He was born in Indiana. He was born to parents in Leningrad. His family is all dead either way.) They all tell him he's safe here. The Soviet Union can no longer touch him, all safeguards and kill switches have been removed. He's American just like he used to be, they say. 

Except he can't erase seventy years of self-imposed beliefs and no one wants to accept that he made himself into some evil Communist. Everyone wants to just see another American hero when they look at him, but he doesn't know what he is. Besides a pawn in what had become an unending Cold War.

He thinks if he says the name he is supposed to have, it will begin to feel like his again. It doesn't work. It never works. Not this time or the last. Or the countless times before. He turns away with an aggravated snarl.

Maybe he is nothing. Maybe none of it is real. Perhaps he is asleep in one of the cryo chambers he has seen in Department X. Where they keep their dark secrets. Sometimes he thinks he has memories of being inside one, but maybe those are just nightmares. There are a lot of maybes in his life.

Someone knocks at the door and he yells come in, not caring if the words come out in English or Russian.

Steve.

Steve Rogers. The quintessential American hero.

James or Yakov, or whatever he is supposed to call himself, hates him. Hates that he knows who he is. Hates that he's good in bed. It's exhausting. Everything is exhausting these days. He just wants to sleep. Figure things out but no one lets him pause. They want him out in front of the press. The reclaimed American hero.

He doesn't feel very heroic.

"Coulson wants you ready."

James nods but refuses to acknowledge Steve more then that. He's almost ready, he just needs some socks. His fingers dig through the drawer looking for a pair and curl around a metal chain instead. He draws it out slowly, feeling like he should know what it is but the memory keeps on slipping away. His shrink that was a sign he most likely repressed it. Something yells at him to stop but he keeps pulling it out.

The dog tags clink together softly. It echoes like thunder in his ears. His hand shakes as he reaches for them, cradling them in his palm, running his thumb over the embossed letters. 

Barnes, James.

He wants to yell at Steve for crushing his chest, he can't think of any other reason it's suddenly so hard to breathe. But he can't even draw the breath to do that. The dog tags are scuffed and worn. There's a dent he knows he carved himself with a rock when bored somewhere in North Africa. He remembers mud and wind and the bitter cold when they landed in Italy in January.

He remembers a work camp in Austria. Being culled from the herd and so much pain. The vague tremors in the building but no one came. No one ever came and he was left on a table in a decimated ruin. His arm was black with frostbite, almost to the shoulder when the Russians found him. Already half crazy with hunger, his wrists rubbed raw from getting out of the leather restraints.

A hand touches his shoulder as if terrified of him. Steve's face comes sharply into focus, twisted into fear and worry.

"You left me," James gasps. "It was you and you left me." His voice feels distant. Maybe he's drowning, his face is wet. Maybe.

Hopefully.

"What are you talking about?"

"You left me!" He yells, just to hear his own voice better and Steve flinches away. "I read your fucking file! That was you!" The anger builds up, burning away everything else and he lets it. Grateful to feel something that isn't pain and cold. He throws his hands out, connecting with Steve's chest and sending him back a few steps. "Some fucking hero you are."

"What the hell are you talking about Barnes?" Steve snaps.

Bucky licks his lips not sure if he wants to fuck Steve or punch him, but he lets the feelings roil inside him. Treasures them. The numbness that has been his life for years is gone and he knows who he is. "In fucking Austria. I was fucking- you-" He tears at his own hair in frustration.

"The Hydra camp?" Steve says carefully. "Is that what you're talking about?"

"Do you know what they fucking _did_ to me?"

"You were there?" Steve finally catches on. Bucky advances on him and shoves at Steve again, but this time Steve catches one of his wrists and twists it. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

Bucky swings out with his metal arm and catches Steve's cheek, making them both stumble. "Weren't you there to free us poor normal soldiers? And what, got too lazy to take a second look?"

"I didn't have time!" Steve shoves him against a wall, pinning him against it with his arm. Bucky's head hits the wall hard enough his ears ring. "Schmidt had set the place to self destruct."

"Then why aren't I dead?" He punches at Steve's stomach and it gets him to loosen his arm. Bucky twists them around to pin Steve against the wall. His blood pounds in his ears and it feels _good_.

"Schmidt must not have done a good job. I wasn't going to sit around and check." There's blood on Steve's lip and Bucky crushes his lips against Steve's, sucking on his lower lip to taste the blood. For a second Steve doesn't move and then his hands fist in Bucky's shirt, kissing back hungrily. Bucky doesn't bother with gentle, he wants Steve to hurt. He wants to build him up and tear him down.

He presses his thigh against Steve's crotch, feeling him already half hard. The super soldier serum is good for that at least. 

With no warning, Bucky steps back before he can lose his resolve. Steve's lips are red and wet. He blinks rapidly, and his hands fist but he doesn't reach out.

"Get the fuck out of my room."

Steve leisurely straightens. "We still have a meeting with Coulson."

"I don't fucking care."

"Too bad. Get dressed, Soldier." There's always something in Steve's voice when he says it, never letting Bucky live down his title under the Russians. Everyone else in this mad house is eager to accept him back as an American, to rub it in the Russians noses that they can't beat out whatever makes them different. Everyone except for Steve.

"I have a fucking name," Bucky growls. "Get out."

"I'll be waiting in the hallway."

-

His shrink explains he had a panic attack but now he can truly start healing. He can deal with the memories he repressed, the life he had as James Barnes. She blinks in surprise when he mumbles Bucky and makes him explain.

It hurts, it's _agonizing_ , fighting against what he believes is right and what his mind is telling him truly happened.

There was a little girl, he whispers brokenly. The name comes from her. The shrink says James Barnes had a younger sister, she's still alive if he wants to meet her. She's old and grey now and he is no longer the brother she knows but the shrink doesn't say that.

Bucky throws a paperweight through the window.

-

He runs to the gym. It's somewhere after midnight and in seven hours he will be in front of a panel of microphones. Telling the world that he was born James Barnes. That he was an American hero. Twisted and perverted by the Russians. He will tell the world how ashamed he is of standing for one of America's foes, how he wants to make up for all of that now.

No one wants to remember that the last time James Barnes called himself American, Russia and America were allies. He's learning there's a lot people don't want to remember.

SHIELD has leaked information about him, Bucky knows that. Just to rile the Russians up. Bucky doesn't see the point but the spy stuff isn't his domain. His masters had him kissing babies and helping farmers. He walked down the streets of Budapest and shook Mao Tse-Dong's hand.

His punch cracks the punching bag.

"Traitor," he whispers, punching the bag again. "Traitor." Again. "Traitor!"

"I hope you're not talking to me."

Bucky growls wordlessly at Steve. The last person he wants to see. He hates that he broke down like he did in front of Captain America. The great hero that Bucky never was. Not as an America and not as a Russian. "What the hell are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep." He has hand wraps and leisurely puts them on, his eyes never straying from Bucky for long. Bucky finds himself watching back.

"Sorry."

Steve's eyes meet his and then dart away. "It is your fault, in a way. But you were just following orders." He gives Bucky a careful look. "You mind if I take a chance to return some of that beating?"

Bucky tenses, waiting for the anger. The other shoe to drop. This is the longest civil conversation they've ever had. "How?"

"You need someone to beat the shit out of you? I'm volunteering."

"As if you could land a blow," Bucky sneers, trying to assert some control, trying not to admit that Steve Rogers is right. The bag gets shoved aside and theres nothing but the two of them. There's nothing sexual in it, just the two of them going at each other no holds barred. They're both wrecked when they finally stop. For the first time in a long time, Bucky feels empty, but it's a good feeling. Like he's managed to just let go of everything.

"I've been thinking a lot," Steve says after a minute, tossing a water bottle at him. "About what happened." Bucky takes a long drink instead of answering. "When Department X caught me, you really didn't want anything to do with it, did you."

"They taught me how to torture. Doesn't make me like it," Bucky says stiffly. He's too tired for this and he can't look away from the line of Steve's bicep, the set of his jaw.

"That day…when you came in and just talked…"

Bucky laughs sharply. His eyes burn and he squeezes them shut tightly, refusing to acknowledge the tears. Not even sure what they're for. "They gave me shit for that. Probably terrified them. To see me talking with an American." He slowly gets up to his knees, not looking at Steve.

"What happened? Why'd you do so much for them?"

"What would you have had me do?" Bucky snaps. "No one was coming for me, I had lost my fucking arm! Easier to forget the past," he trails off, swallows hard. He's already lost it once in front of Steve Rogers. It won't happen again. He gets up quickly to his feet but Steve is faster.

Steve gets a grip on his ankle and yanks him back down to the mat. Steve has him pinned down before Bucky's vision stops swimming, His hands on Bucky's shoulder, for a second, Bucky wonders if Steve can bend the metal. Maybe Steve can just tear him apart and solve all his problems. It doesn't matter who uses him if he's dead. "And who the hell are you now?"

Bucky sneers up at him, it's easier to let the pain and hurt overwhelm him then consider that Steve might care. Or understand. Steve Rogers is everything he isn't. Everything he doesn't deserve to be and yet SHIELD wants. "Question of the fucking hour. Why you want a piece of me, too?"

"I want to know who I'm supposed to be working beside." Steve scowls at him, it's his default expression around Bucky.

"You've seen my file I'm sure."

"I know you've fought in war. Who are you?" Bucky freezes as the true depth of Steve's question hits him. Steve understands something in his silence. He finally rolls off of Bucky. "Guess we're more similar then I thought."

He leaves Bucky sprawled out on the mat, trying to figure out Steve's statement. He's still there when some SHIELD agents show up to begin their morning training. They give him a nervous look so he quickly leaves, seeing where he's not wanted.

-

Bucky tells his psychiatrist about the first time he and Steve fuck. He's not sure he believes her when she says everything is confidential and part of him wants people to know. He wants SHIELD and Stark and all the fucking Avengers to hear how their precious Captain is far from innocent.

So he tells her about the first time, just after Bucky's release from SHIELD's custody. When he still went by James and spoken Russian more naturally then English and Steve still had bandages from his beating at Bucky's hands.

Bucky reopened those wounds with his fingernails while Steve fucked him against a wall. (And that was only the first time.)

-

Captain America and the Winter Soldier stand side by side in front of flashing cameras and greedy reporters, all desperate to get heard over everyone else. Bucky purses his lips and tries to ignore it. They all think they know, they think they can summarize everything in a few lines. A lifetime turned into betrayal.

SHIELD officially says the Russians brainwashed him using experimental technology.

Only a few people know the truth. That Bucky let them, he let them into his head. Let them change his name and change his story. Tony Stark, Tony fucking Stark, looks down his nose at him. 

And now he's scared to open his mouth under the hoard of questions.

At least Coulson seems up to fielding the questions. Bucky's grateful when he can leave. It feels a little like running away but he's never been good with problems he couldn't fight physically. Even as the Winter Soldier (when he was scared of the whispers in English at the back of his mind that threatened to trip his tongue) talking to reporters, being in the spotlight felt wrong.

He gets away first and takes a minute to just breathe.

"Are you okay?" Steve looks almost surprised he's asking. His hands stay on his hips. Bucky wants to punch him again, maybe it would be enough to get the trembling in his hands to stop.

"Fine," he snaps, standing up a little bit straighter.

Steve arches an eyebrow and shrugs. "Stop pitying yourself all the damn time. You're not the only one who didn't want to stand up there."

Bucky snarls and storms down the hallway before he does something to regret. He's so tired, strained from holding everything in. From wanting Steve and hating him all the damn time. He wants to scream and lose control, he wants to stop lying. "I don't pity myself," he snaps, knowing Steve is only a few paces behind him.

"Yea you do. Can't believe you beat me in a fight either, ever tell you that?"

Bucky laughs sharply. "Guess I'm worthless without Belova watching my back. Did I ever tell you that? You got taken down by a girl." He stops and spins on Steve, not caring that Coulson is behind them. That the Quinjet's pilot is right there waiting for them to get their asses on board. "I was the distraction to keep you busy. Yelena Belova who replaced the Widow the Avengers stole was the one who took you down."

"Don't sound too proud, we're supposed to be allies."

"Yea, because you're so fucking eager about that."

Steve's hands fist at his side and this is it. They've sparred, exchanged a few blows, but it's never been all out. Not since the fight between the Winter Soldier and Captain America. Bucky wonders if Steve will hit him hard enough he just won't wake up again. 

It's tempting to push and push until he crosses the line. Make Steve take that step so he doesn't have to do it himself.

"You hate me, just say it," Bucky snarls. "You hate me for what I did to you. I fucking tortured you. _I_ did that. Not some brainwashed thug." Steve is fast, faster then Bucky remembers him being and suddenly he's against a wall, a hand around his throat. There's yelling around them but everyone knows they can't pull Captain America off of him. Most don't really want to.

They all just have to wait and see.

Finally Steve drops him but not before Bucky felt his half hard cock digging into his thigh and Bucky's own body had responded. Promises for later.

-

She asks why he did it, why did he push Steve like that.

Bucky laughs and smiles. He decides to answer her honestly, she's earned that.

"Because, I can feel things around him."

-

There's a ring of bruises around his neck, bright purple and none of his shirts have a high enough neck to hide them. He's almost proud of them, though he's more proud of the bruises on his hip from Steve's hand and the one on his knee where it banged into the nightstand. Steve fucked him and left, leaving him with soiled sheets and a torn uniform, but at least he's in his own bed. They haven't fucked in a bed before.

Jessica gives him a speculative look when he stumbles into the kitchen but doesn't comment on the bed head or the bruises.

"So the rumors are true?" Clint says, all blue eyed innocence. "Cap beat the shit out of you?"

"Deserved it," Bucky shrugs and pushes past both of them to get to the coffee machine.

"You can't punish yourself forever," Jessica says softly from right next to him, almost making him spill the coffee on himself.

"A few months is not forever."

She hums and nods, letting it drop. He knows of all the people in this motley crew, she is the one who understands the best, of being faced with terrible choices and just trying to make the best of it. Needing to believe in something bigger then yourself, thinking for so long you're on the right side.

The pain when you find out you're wrong.

"Also, this one," she pokes at a spot on his neck, "that's not a bruise from a finger. I hope you have some clue what you're doing." She walks away with a smirk and he wonders if he can just go back to bed. When he turns around, Steve is in the kitchen, making his way through the newspaper.

"Want to pour me a cup?" He asks, nodding at the coffee. For a split second Bucky can't move, it's too normal and Steve just smirks. But it doesn't reach his eyes. Something changed last night (between fuck you and I need this, whispers frantically against heated skin) and neither of them know what it is. They let something go or they let something in. Bucky doesn't know how to work without the immediate flare of anger. "I'm not begging," Steve says, sitting up a little straighter.

Bucky shrugs and moves to get down another mug, trying to pretend his initial panic hadn't happened.

"Long night?" Steve says, a teasing edge to his voice. Bucky's heard it before, just never directed at him. He's smiling and Bucky lets himself go with it.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Someone kept you up?"

"Yea this asshole I have to work with."

And Steve laughs.

-

He likes to talk about the war, he's not sure why but something about the stories feels comforting. He tells his shrink about fighting as part of the 107th, even if his glory was short lived. His war officially ended on Zola's table.

The partisans who found him never truly trusted him and what use did they have for a man who lost an arm to frostbite. He was lucky they didn't kill him. They weren't friends or family but they kept him alive long enough to be found by the Red Army. Or maybe it was whatever Zola did to him on that table let him survive freezing temperatures and lack of food.

Too many unanswered questions and in the end, he was always abandoned.

-

The only other person beside Steve who talks to Bucky regularly is Jessica Drew. She likes to show up on his balcony without any warning and let herself in. He tries to get annoyed with her at first but she refuses to back off. It's kind of reassuring, having someone out there who doesn't hate him.

"Do you play chess?" She asks one day.

"I'm not very good."

She shrugs and a week later shows up with a chess set tucked under one arm. They sprawl over his bed and play match after match, barely speaking a word to each other. She doesn't ask about the black eye he's sporting from his last sparring session with Steve and he doesn't ask about the hickey half hidden by her shirt collar.

After that the board stays in his room and sometimes he brings it down to hers when he needs a change in scenery.

He thinks she's the closest thing he has to a friend. She's the first person he asks to call him Bucky.

"What kind of a name is Bucky?" Her head is in his lap and they're watching a monster destroy New York on TV. 

"It's mine."

She rolls onto her back to look up at him. It's terrifying to meet her eyes but he does. "I like it. It's cute."

A tiny smile tugs on his lips. "Thanks. I think." She twists back around to face the scream and reaches back for one of his hands, curling their fingers together.

"It's a compliment," she murmurs. "Promise."

"Oh look," Tony drawls, interrupting the calm. Bucky feels the familiar twist of anger in his gut. "It's our favorite traitors all snuggly and cute." Jessica's grip becomes tight enough to hurt and her eyes stay forward in a way that screams she's forcing herself. 

"And it's our favorite arms dealer, you know I used one of your sniper rifles, the Stark issue T13?" Bucky smiles tightly. The word traitor has been used around him so often he keeps on expecting it to lose his meeting. It still hasn't happened yet, but he hasn't given up hope and his therapist is always encouraging him to have hope. To change the meaning of the insults, make them positive. "A bit too tight, but the Dragunov tended to pull too much and was too unpredictable."

Jessica is still holding on tightly but it's gone from panic to support. The way Tony's jaw works and tenses doesn't make Bucky feel any safer and the panic and adrenaline twist together in his gut. If Jess lets go, he thinks he might be sick. "You think you have the right to judge me?" Tony snaps through a clenched jaw.

"What I think doesn't matter. I'm just a soldier."

"Yea, the fucking Winter Soldier. Icon of the Soviet Union. I hear you killed some Hungarian kids during the revolution there and took pot shots at old men in Afghanistan, how'd that go for you?"

Bucky's on his feet before he can stop himself but Jessica doesn't let go of his hand and Steve is suddenly there, moving between them. "Bucky," Jessica murmurs. "He's not worth it." He knows she's strong, probably stronger then him and Steve is there now. Defending Tony Stark and his fuck smirk.

"She's right," Steve says softly, his fingers lightly brushing Bucky's chest. "He's not worth it." Between the two of them, Bucky is seated back down on the couch, Jessica with her head in his lap again and Steve beside him. Tony snarls something under his breath and leaves but Bucky still can't breathe right.

"Why are you doing this?" He whispers. "Protecting me."

"You're my punching bag," Steve smiles. Bucky remembers his comment in the gym, about being alike. He never thought perfect, beautiful Steve Rogers would understand him, but maybe he's wrong. 

-

They don't fight, not in the same way. The way Steve looks at him changes and Bucky isn't sure how he feels about it. He isn't sure what it means and he's terrified to find out.

Terrified because he knows he doesn't have to look that deep into himself to understand it.

Bucky likes sparring with Steve, likes knowing that he doesn't have to pull his punches. Steve Rogers at full strength is nothing like the broken man he first met. And Steve gives back, seems happy to give back as much as he gets. It hurts, Steve knows not to cause any real damage, but Bucky comes away black and blue each time. 

But after the worst, when Bucky wonders if something is broken, something physical instead of only mental, Steve apologizes. Covered in sweat, watching Bucky carefully unfold and stand. He says he's sorry, for going to far.

Even though Bucky knows Steve is a vindictive shit, is more angry then he lets on and is really good at faking a smile. When Steve Rogers says he's sorry, Bucky believes him.

It's only a matter of time before Steve shows up in his room again. It's the first time he's been in there since witnessing Bucky's break down. Bucky still doesn't wear the dog tags, he doesn't feel worthy of them. Doesn't know if he ever will. But they hang from the lamp beside his bed. First thing he sees every morning now.

Steve is still in his uniform, despite officially being on the roster, SHIELD is hesitant to call Bucky up for most missions. He thinks they're waiting for his shrink to clear him, but Bucky knows if the shrink has any smarts, she'll never do that. The inaction gets to him, but Steve lets Bucky take it out on him so he has no real reason to complain. Maybe it's better this way, avoid the public eye, let them all forget him. The Russians, the Americans, everyone.

He expects Jessica at the door, usually she shows up after missions to relax and wind down.

"Hi."

Bucky blinks slowly. "Hi?"

There's no warning before Steve stumbles forward and kisses him. Hard and needy, his hands on Bucky's face and Bucky's not sure if he wants to get away or kiss back. "I'm sorry," Steve whispers against his lips, as if Bucky would disappear if he pulled back any further.

"For what? Are you on something?"

Steve laughs and kisses him again but this time Bucky is ready and twists his head so Steve's lips only hit his cheek. "Come on, James. I just want a kiss. Almost died today."

It would be so easy to give in, Steve's leaning pretty heavily against him and Bucky's body is very interested. But Steve has that look in his eyes that Bucky is scared to read. "You should go shower, you stink."

"Will you shower with me?"

Bucky shoves hard at Steve's chest and Steve actually moves, almost stumbling into Bucky's dresser. He tries not to see the confused hurt in Steve's eyes, tries to hold onto his own anger and confusion. "What the fuck is this? What are you doing?" They don't shower, they fuck and fight and argue, except they haven't done any of that recently. Bucky's anger slowly dissipates under the force of the fear he feels that suddenly he's in unknown territory.

Steve looks like he's going to be angry, and Bucky wants him to be. He knows Steve's anger, it's familiar. Safe. (There must be something so wrong with him to think the anger of a super soldier is safe, but he doesn't want to think about that either.) Except Steve doesn't get angry, he just looks tired and sinks slowly to the ground, resting his head on his knees.

"Some idiots tried to rob a bank. Hyped up on some drug, MGH I think. Took down part of an apartment complex in trying to get away. Couldn't- I couldn't-" Steve chokes up, can't even finish the sentence. Bucky doesn't know what to do but kneel in front of him, lightly resting his real hand on Steve's head. For the first time noticing how soft Steve's hair is. "James-"

"Bucky."

"What?" Steve looks up at him and Bucky feels the heat spreading over his cheeks.

"Bucky. Only my dad called me James." He ducks his head, not able to stand how touched Steve looks. "So you almost died? The building fell on you?" He asks quickly, something, anything else to focus on.

"No, got knocked hard on the back of the head by one of the bad guys and shot at. They were bandaging me up and I saw this- There was a woman bent over a body. Her husband or partner or something. He was dead. He was dead and it was my fault, I couldn't stop a few idiots from charging into a building." Steve takes a few deep breaths and Bucky can hear the unshed tears in his voice. He moves without considering what he's doing, just settles beside Steve and gently nudges him until his head rests on Bucky's shoulder. "You were a public superhero before I ever was. It get easier when you fuck up?"

Bucky tries not to think about being the Winter Soldier. He's been doing better with all the memories, the conflicting beliefs. (There are things, events just outside of his perception. Things he's sure he should know but can't remember.) But just being with Steve drags them up over and over again. "I don't…" Usually he can ignore the niggling feeling that there are memories he still doesn't have, but it overwhelms him and chokes him up. 

"Sorry, I shouldn't-" Steve starts to push up and Bucky should let him go. Should let him walk out before something stupid happens, like feelings and attachment. All they have is anger and sex. He doesn't even really know why Steve's here, why Steve came to him.

Except he knows he doesn't want to let Steve go. "I almost killed you because we thought you were a Skrull."

Steve's head snaps around and Bucky pushes himself away, trying to shrink down to nothing. "What?" Steve says softly.

"Skrulls. Shape-shifting aliens."

"And why would I be one?" Bucky buries his face in his hands. This was one of the great secrets he was never supposed to reveal and even knowing he was never really Russian, it still feels wrong to tell Captain America. "James," Steve prompts when Bucky still doesn't say anything. " _Bucky_. What the hell are you keeping secret?"

The laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop it. What a silly question. What is he keeping secret? What about him isn't a secret? Steve scowls but Bucky feels control slipping away and dissolves into giggles. Stress and anger and fear all twisted up. He wonders if this is him finally going crazy, he's pretty sure it's about time. When he can breath again, Steve is still there but his scowl is gone, replaced by something he can't read. "What?" Bucky gasps, trying to regain his breath.

"Never seen you smile before."

Bucky laughs sharply and stares up at the ceiling. "Don't think that really counts. Think I've just lost it."

Steve chuckles and Bucky can't see him move, but lips touch his cheek. "Also a possibility. Gonna talk now?"

Bucky closes his eyes as Steve trails kisses down his neck to the collar of his shirt, pressing his tongue to one of the bruises where Steve's fist caught him the other day. Bucky knows what he's doing, or trying to do. Break down Bucky's defenses, encourage him to talk since anger didn't work. Basic interrogation trick. They had tried it when Steve had been in Soviet custody, sent in the Black Widow but it had failed and the Winter Soldier was brought back. Bucky isn't as strong as Steve. "Told you what Skrulls are. Pretty sure SHIELD has files on them if you want to know more," Bucky sighs. One of Steve's hands slips under his shirt to draw aimless patterns over his side.

"Not why the Soviets thought I was one," Steve murmurs against his skin.

"Tried to infiltrate us- the USSR back in the 60s. Wanted to start a nuclear war so the rest of them could invade." Bucky focuses on Steve's hands, tries to ignore the twisting pain in his gut. Tells himself that he's not a traitor, not for sharing this. His ties to the Soviet Union and Department X have no hold on him. "Used faces of American heroes."

A hand touches his cheek, twists his head so when he opens his eyes he's looking directly at Steve and can't look away. "That was fifty years ago."

"What can I say?" Bucky smiles wryly. "Kremlin is full of paranoid fucks." He closes his eyes, it's easier then looking at Steve. "And then there you were, a superhero who had supposedly been dead since the fucking war. They panicked."

"Sent you to beat the shit out of me." He slides back down Bucky's body and Bucky lets out a sigh of relief, it's over, the secret is out. His forehead rests on Bucky's stomach. "You know what the worst day was?"

"The one I used the hammer?"

"The day you did nothing."

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath, not even sure what to say. He remembers that day, he'd been so tired of blood and violence and the stubborn idiot in front of him. He'd wanted Steve to give in, or everyone else to accept this was only a man. Steve rolls away from him and Bucky can't make himself reach out, knows he doesn't deserve to. "There was no point to it," Bucky whispers. Steve doesn't say anything so Bucky opens his eyes, just to see if he's still there. He doesn't know why he feels relieved when he sees Steve sitting there, his back to Bucky and shoulders slumped, but he's there. "Knew you weren't an alien."

"It's a shock you know, being hurt like that."

"Could imagine."

"What are we doing, Ja- Bucky?"

"Was hoping you had the answer for that."

Steve twists around to look back at him. "Want to take that shower with me?"

-

Bucky stares at his shrink and she waits for him to talk.

There's nothing left to say to her though.

He is empty and bare and even the anger he had clung to for so long is slipping from his grasp. She tsks softly and says he's too reliant on Steve Rogers now. He should distance himself, find something else. Someone else. Bucky doesn't know how to explain to her that he doesn't think he can. 

-

They finally let him go out in the field, out on some bullshit mission to somewhere in the Arctic. They must think his experience in Russia must make him suitable, but he hates the cold. Steve, Tony and Bruce - ready to turn into the Hulk at a moment's notice - are with him. Bucky's not sure if they're there to watch him or for support. They're not told exactly what they're going to find. Some hidden outpost. Maybe Hydra.

It's the Red Room. Bucky identifies it the second they step through the doors.

"We need to leave," he hisses, grip tightening on his gun.

"Why? Scared of some grunts?" Tony mocks. Bucky looks away before he can start imagining how to split open the plates of his armor and carve him out.

"These aren't grunts. This is Red Room, this is the Soviet's best of the best."

Before Tony can retort there's a quiet laugh.

"Oh you have that right, traitor." He doesn't see her approach, but he doesn't expect to. This is the Black Widow after all and as her knife severs his spinal column, he lets out a sigh of relief. Maybe it'll be better this way, he can't hurt anyone else. He just regrets he can't save Steve, watches as he goes down next despite the super soldier serum. When Natasha's face appears back in his line of vision, she's smirking. "You'll be given a hero's burial, you helped bring down some of America's greatest, and died nobly in battle."

Bucky wakes with a start, groaning as reality sinks in and it's just him in bed in New York City. The shining beacon of America and capitalism. He can't imagine just lying there in bed anymore. He thinks about going to the gym, or the kitchen but instead finds himself making his way towards Steve's room. The only time he's been in there was during their shower only hours ago. Some lingering fear from the nightmare drives him forward though.

Steve looks disgruntled when he opens the door. There are pillow creases on his face and the hair on half his head sticks up oddly but Bucky lets out a sigh of relief, he's alive. "What the hell?" He mumbles.

"I…" He feels like an idiot. There is no reason Steve wouldn't be alright. Something must show on his face because Steve takes a step aside and gently tugs him inside. "It was a bad dream, I'll go," Bucky says quickly but Steve cuts him off with a kiss. Bucky's grateful it's not soft and caring. He sinks his teeth into Steve's lip, drawing blood and Steve drags him back to the bed. It's rough and quick, Steve takes only enough time to prepare him that Bucky doesn't bleed when he thrusts in. But it still hurts and Bucky cries out in relief. He needs to hurt. Needs to be shocked back to reality. His fingernails dig into Steve's shoulders, dragging him down and closer.

He comes with a choked cry, there's no need to be muffled for once. They're not in the lockers or a convenient bathroom. It sinks in that he's in Steve's bed, but his limbs feel heavy and Steve is softening inside of him.

"Stay," Steve mumbles, already half asleep and Bucky doesn't see a reason to argue. 

He's not sure what wakes him, but the terror from the nightmare is gone and Steve is still a solid weight beside him. It's even sunny outside, as if the whole world decided to be happy today. He wriggles, trying to determine if it's possible to get out without Steve noticing. Except he only needs to glance at Steve to see he's already awake.

"Thought you were a dream," Steve says softly.

"Good dream or bad one?"

"Don't know." Bucky waits for Steve to ask why he's there, but it doesn't come. So Bucky twists around to kiss him, thanking him for not asking, for just giving him what he needed. The kissing is still new but Bucky thinks he likes it. "Do you want to leave?" Steve asks.

"Give me a minute."

He lies there for longer then a minute but Steve doesn't say anything so Bucky doesn't care. It's warm. He's not used to being warm. Bucky thinks he kind of likes it as long as he doesn't start thinking about them too closely. They're still there together when Steve's phone goes off, Nick Fury calling him to arms, Hydra's up to something. Bucky rolls onto his side, facing away from Steve. Letting him go. He's not allowed out in the field, too volatile. (Jess is allowed, has been given a codename and everything, but he stays locked up.)

So he waits for Steve to get dressed and leave, then with the Tower empty, he can slip safely back to his own room, or maybe the gym. And if he puts on the TV to keep an eye on the team, no one else will know.

"Hey, Bucky." Steve's hand touches his shoulder and Bucky tries not to flinch. This wasn't supposed to be protracted, no long good byes. No promises of later. "Get your pants on."

"I promise you can trust me alone in your room." He tries to smile and laugh, but he's really not surprised. He knows Steve doesn't trust him, and doesn't have reason to, last night was a fluke. An accident when Steve was too tired to think straight.

"No that's…Fury wants you out there with us. Guess it's all hands on deck."

Bucky swallows hard, and makes himself get to his feet. He's prepared himself for this, hours in the gym and talking to the shrink. All to prove he can handle fighting as an American hero. Trying to prove he's worth something. Now that it's here, his stomach twists up so tight it hurts.

-

He's shaking and he can't stop, even seated he feels the tremors run through him. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. It was never supposed to be Steve, Steve who is everything Bucky isn't. He didn't have to get in the way. He shouldn't have. The bullet was for Bucky and it nicked Steve's heart.

Everyone else is there, he can feel them ignoring him. He can feel their hate, the one who caused the downfall of their fearless leader. Jessica is the only one who sits beside him.

"Why don't we go over what happened," Fury says stiffly.

"Steve got shot, thanks to letting this one into the field," Tony snarls, as if he has some claim to Steve over the rest of them. As if Steve is more important to him. Bucky's fists clench but he doesn't move, doesn't even look up. Because he's right. If he hadn't been there, they had been aiming for him.

Bucky's head snaps up because no one had known. He had been a last minute addition to the team. The corner of Fury's mouth twists up, he already knows, had been counting on it. "Sir-"

"We had a mole in SHIELD, I needed to find out who." He looms over Bucky, hands on his hips and that damnable smirk on his lips. "You really think Department X would let you go so easy? Keeping you locked up in that tower kept you safe but it didn't give us answers."

There's a tremor in his hands, Bucky is distantly aware of it as if it's happening to someone else. All he can think of is Steve, lying in the other room, his insides torn up from the bullet meant for Bucky. Before anyone can stop him, he's on his feet, metal fist slamming into Fury's face, over and over. There's yelling around him and blood on his hands, but he can't stop. 

Thor is the one who drags him off of Fury and it's Jessica who pulls him into an empty room. Once Thor lets him go, he falls to his knees. Everything is empty. There's nothing left in him but a deep exhaustion with everything. It's easiest to stay curled up on the floor, to ignore everything around him, to let the ache of nothing fill him up and push away everything else. No more pain, no more stress, guilt, shame. All of it just gone.

"James…" Jessica sighs softly.

"He was going to let me die. To find his mole."

Jessica presses her forehead to his. "Well you've fought beside us, you're an Avenger now. We're not giving you to that bastard." Bucky wants to believe her, but he's seen how Tony looks at him and Carol pities him. None of them trust him. He's not on this team. He's lucky they even let him have a room in the Tower. "Come on." She gently tugs him up and he's too tired to do anything but let her lead.

"Where?" Bucky asks.

The Avengers are still in the hall where they left them. Thor and Carol standing guard, Clint slumped looking half asleep in a chair, Tony texting furiously with someone, Jan is shrunk down slightly to fit into Hank's lap easier. Fury's gone. Tony glares at him when he sees them but doesn't say anything and when Jessica nudges him towards Steve's room, Thor and Carol part ways for him. Letting him pass.

Bucky resists looking back at Jessica, that would be childish. He can face Steve without her support. Except when he sees Steve, pale and bandaged, the guilt hits hard, overwhelming and filling the emptiness inside him. And Steve manages a smile for him.

"So the secretive spy master turned out to be using us," Steve says, gesturing for Bucky to take a chair.

"Us?"

"The whole," he waves one hand around vaguely. "Everything. The show we put on because they asked. Getting you out into the field. Used me too." He holds his hand out, palm up and even caught up in his own emotions, Bucky can see the invitation for what is. Bucky very lightly touches his fingers to Steve's palm. "Thought they brought you in to replace me." He laughs softly, holding loosely onto Bucky's hand. "Didn't even want this, and I was scared of being replaced."

"I don't want to be Captain America." He didn't even want to be himself, there was no redemption in the red, white and blue. Nick Fury had shown them that. There was only more of the same in being an American superhero. Bucky looks down at their hands. Steve's hand looks so much bigger then his.

"You could do it. If you really wanted to, you could do it."

"But I don't want to."

Steve smiles and his eyes fall shut but his hand doesn't let go of Bucky's, so Bucky doesn't move. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Bucky is the one who screwed up. Bucky should have taken the bullet, not Steve. He should have seen it coming, he should have kept Steve from getting in the way. He should have done a lot of things.

"For back in the war. Not finding you when you needed Captain America." Steve gives him a tiny smile. "I'm sorry."

Bucky's throat tightens and for a long minute, he can't look at Steve. "It's okay. You didn't know." He manages what he hopes is a smile, or can at least pass for one. "And if you had, I'd probably be dead right now from old age." He gets up quickly, mumbling an excuse and dashing out of the room. He needs to get out. It's still hard to breathe and he doesn't want to think about the feeling settling in his gut.

-

His therapist says they don't have many required meetings left, but he's welcome to continue seeing her. His answer is noncommittal so she moves on.

She asks about the relationship with Steve. 

He says there is no relationship, and she only needs to look at him for him to know she's seen through the lie. He thinks he used to be good at lying, at hiding the feeling that he was someone else when in Russia, all the shows of bravado as a kid. He tells himself that this is just what she's been trained to do, so of course she sees through it

But Bucky knows that's a lie too.

-

Steve is let out of Medical a few days later. He's almost completely healed, he just needed the few days of rest. Bucky had tried to stay holed up in his own rooms not wanting to deal with the rest of the team. Jan trying to be his friend and Tony's open anger. 

Jessica would come by, but for those first few days, no one else did. 

Then there's Steve, with his careful concern as if Bucky was the one who was injured. Bucky wants to slam the door in his face when he shows up, wants to pretend his life isn't a train speeding off the tracks. If the tracks were ever there. 

"I think we need to talk," Steve says softly. The lump in Bucky's throat makes it impossible for him to do more then nod and step aside. Steve's hand reaches up, as if he might reach for Bucky but he stops himself, letting it drop back down to his side. "I know you don't like me much."

"I wish," Bucky grumbles. Steve stares, his mouth half open until Bucky starts to fidget uncomfortably, quickly closing the door behind Steve and leaning against it. "Don't you _get_ it? I tried to hate you but you- There's no one else in this place who gets it. Jessica is close, but you…" Steve moves carefully into his space, his fingers tracing the line of Bucky's jaw until he's cupping his face.

"When I noticed the sniper, I realized I could let it happen. And you might have even thanked me for it." His thumb presses against Bucky's lips until he opens for it, scraping his teeth over the pad. "But I couldn't watch you die."

Bucky drops his head back against the door with a dull thud, staring at Steve through half closed eyes. "Everyone else called me a traitor."

"You're not. Bucky Barnes just wanted to survive." Steve's lips press against his cheek bone. He's so close. They're so close to stepping finally over an edge. Bucky could push him away now, could send everything spinning back to where it was. Except they can never go back. He couldn't just go back to being an American soldier, he could never be just Bucky Barnes again. They're going somewhere new and Bucky is terrified.

"I don't know if he did some days." His hands fist in Steve's shirt, not sure if he's stopping himself from punching Steve or touching him.

"Whoever you are, you've got potential." Bucky can feel Steve's smile and it's more then the curve of his lips. It's the way his whole body leans into Bucky and his fingers, rough despite the gloves, caress his skin. "I've got you," Steve whispers.

"I'll have to find a way to repay you."

Steve chuckles, dragging his lips down to Bucky's neck. "You don't have to." Bucky shakes his head because nothing is free. Not even something as ephemeral as emotion. Steve pulls back, his hands leaving Bucky's skin, instead he presses them flat against the door, one on either side of Bucky's head. Bucky holds himself a little straighter, waiting for the twist. "Don't you _get_ it?" Frustration seeps into his voice.

"Obviously not," Bucky snaps back.

"You're the only one in this clusterfuck who doesn't expect me to be something."

"I expect you to hate me." Bucky's not sure what normal is anymore (did he ever know?) but he is sure after everything that has happened, everything he has done, Steve Rogers should hate him. There is blood between them and most of it is Steve's.

But the wounds somehow healed. 

Steve touches his lips to Bucky's. "I don't. Get used to it."

(For the first time, Bucky lets himself think 'I like this.')


End file.
